Red Dawn
by Vermilion Angel
Summary: Hutch struggles to understand his current situation.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make nothing. _

_Thank you e-pony, for continuously being awesome, giving this a title, and generally making it good. _

**Red Dawn**

By Vermilion Angel

Interestingly, Hutch wouldn't have minded a little pain at the moment – not because he was feeling particularly masochistic, but because the "whole lot of pain" thing was really starting to suck. He wasn't asking for much, just for the constant agony in his gut to diminish somewhat. He offered his petition in the form of a pitiful moan.

"Hey! Hey, Hutch, you still with me?" A whisper came from somewhere in the grayness surrounding him. The voice was strained but strangely upbeat. "Not much longer now."

Hutch wasn't sure what he was supposed to be waiting for. When he tried to think, all he could remember was pain… pain and the swirling, colorless mist that encompassed his field of vision. Shouting had come from somewhere far away, punctuated by little popping sounds. Then, a ghostly figure had floated vaguely into his private ether: a blob of light with a dark shadow around it, like a halo in negative._A fallen angel?_ he wondered. But the voice didn't sound like an angel's; it sounded like…

"Just hold on a little longer, okay?" The tone was insistent, yet seemed to be drifting further away. Black dots encroached upon the edges of the grayness, and the form above him swam to the left. "The ambulance will be here in just a second."

But a second was a long time when your stomach was on fire.

At some point, Hutch's hands had disappeared, and his legs – he couldn't feel them, couldn't get any reaction from them at all. He was just a _thing_, floating in the fog, and… burning.

"How many times have I told you?" the voice from above demanded softly. There was an edge of pain in that voice, as if the speaker were hurting, too. Perhaps they were both burning. Perhaps the voice _did_belong to a fallen angel, and Hutch had found himself in hell. "Ya can't stop bullets with your chest. That only works for Superman."

_Superman?_ Hutch knew he certainly wasn't Superman. In fact, he was beginning to forget who he was at all. The pain was making him sick. He wanted to throw up, to expunge whatever corrosive force was devouring him. But when his stomach convulsed, his whole body flared with pain. He tensed, feeling sensation where he thought his shoulder should be.

"Easy! Easy!" The voice rose to a panic. "Just try to relax."

It wasn't like he wasn't trying, but he couldn't remember how. The pain was overwhelming, replacing everything he knew with a blazing void. He wanted it to end. He tried to scream, but managed only a muted yelp.

"It's okay, buddy; everything's going to be okay."

Had anyone told him _what_ they were waiting for? He didn't know. But things were changing now. The black spots were starting to break away from the edges and dance around the figure talking to him. He knew that shape from somewhere, didn't he? He tried to communicate once more. "S-s-sta…"

"Yeah. I'm right here."

Hutch was suddenly aware of a stirring on the periphery of his senses. It felt like… it felt like his hand or someone putting pressure on his hand, at least. He was glad to find that it hadn't disappeared after all.

"I can hear the ambulance." The voice came again. "Can you hear that? We're going to get you fixed up – get that slug out of you, and you'll be good as new in no time."

A slug? Huh? Was he being eaten alive from the inside out? Maybe that's why he felt so queasy. It made sense, or as much sense as anything else did. The thought was so repulsive, however, that his stomach immediately began to convulse again.

"Whoa!" The voice sounded surprised, but didn't lose its edge of sadness and worry. "Easy, boy. Easy."

Hutch was pretty sure he wasn't a horse. He wasn't in enough control to scowl, but he would have if he'd been able.

"Hey! Here we are. Finally!" The voice sounded suddenly joyful. "Hey! HEY!"

Hutch felt something jostle him, and a half a dozen forms swarmed into view. Then, suddenly, a warm, tingling numbness began to spread through his body.

"What the hell took you so long?" The voice was angry, but not at him.

"We got here as quickly as we could. I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a friggin' _riot_ going on out there!" a new voice snapped.

"Yeah, yeah. I noticed. An' I noticed when one of those bastards put a damn hole through my partner!"

"Guys! Guys!" A third voice spoke up – authoritarian, feminine. "This man needs a hospital, now."

"Sorry," muttered the original voice.

"What's his name?"

"Hutch. Ken Hutchinson, detective sergeant."

"Right," the female voice confirmed. "Can you hear me Detective Hutchinson?"

Hutch… that sounded about right.

The pain was now being smothered by something wonderful. And yes, yes, he could hear them. "'M not a h'rse."

"What'd he say?" the first voice demanded.

x x x

The female paramedic shrugged at Starsky as she helped load Hutch into the back of the ambulance. "Are you coming along?" she asked.

Starsky nodded firmly and clambered into the back of the ambulance. He was covered in blood from the gory hole in Hutch's midriff, but he barely seemed aware of it. As the ambulance bumped and rocked through the debris-strewn streets, he clasped his partner's hand.

Moments earlier, a battalion of police had pushed back the angry mob, so ambulances could get to the makeshift infirmary at a nearby bank. Hutch was one of the first patients transported out, but there were others, and Starsky could hear the wailing of sirens behind them.

"So, why'd you give your bulletproof vest to that guy, huh?" he muttered, watching the paramedic work to stem the flow of blood, just as he had tried to do. "That was kinda dumb, don't you think?"

But Starsky knew the answer to that question already. He shook his head ruefully and sighed. "Just don't die before I can kick your ass, okay?"

Tightening his hold on Hutch's fingers, he leaned back and shut his eyes. Somewhere, beyond the doors of his private hell, he knew the sun was rising.


End file.
